Thursday, June 06, 2002

Theft on Maui



One of the benefits of living on a small island is the relative absence of theft. Three years of living here -- with no locked doors, surfboards left on car tops, windsurfing gear left in parking lots, etc. -- and I've had nothing stolen. (Except some ice cream bars, by the Sudbury kids. Heh.) I mean, where's it going to go? It's not like there's a border to drive across, or chop shops dealing in windsurfing gear. Theft seems to work itself out of the social system when the odds are so high that either someone you know is going to see you in the act (Hey, Kaika, why you got that stocking on your head in da bank?) or that the goods will be seen again by the pissed off owner within a month.

So, four days ago, I was pretty pissed off and saddened when my (borrowed from R, but I'd beaten the thing into the ground so I figured it mine by virtue of having destroyed it) bicycle was stolen from the back of our house. :( A had thought she heard footsteps on gravel late that night. Bummer. So much for theft free paradise.

I figured the evil deed had been done by one of the more unsavory little friends of the evil kids next door -- probably the same ones who poached all our chameleons. But, this is Maui, and a small neighborhood in Maui at that. So, sure enough, as we are driving past the park on the way to Costco, I spot a little kid clumsily (must be just getting familiar with it...) riding a bike that looks a bit too big for him and remarkably similar to mine -- only with a fresh coat of grey paint. It WAS one of the neighbor kids, and he immediately ratted out his brother as the one who had given it to him, "Kai! You busted!" I said very little, and wasn't angry, (sheesh, I have visions of killing thieves in a blind rage, but just never get angry -- it's almost a fault) just said it was mine, as if they had been under some other impression, and took it back.

I kind of like the new paint job. Rather an improvement. It reminds me of when a motorcycle was stolen from me in Los Angeles, only to be returned to me by the police (they had chased him down and busted him when he randomly fled a Jack in the Box) with new custom pipes on it. Guess I'm lucky that way. And I can go back to being oblivious about the security of my stuff. :)

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gar@lisi.com